


Roller Coaster

by romachebella



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute Castiel, M/M, Roller Coasters, Sweet Dean, fun fairs, jaeger shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 20:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4193724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romachebella/pseuds/romachebella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean takes Cas to Centerville Annual Fair - to have a fun night out, obviously. Cas isn´t sure he´s ready for this kind of "fun". Actually, he´s pretty sure he isn´t, after the first few minutes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roller Coaster

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday story for P., my soul sister. You may live far, far away - but you´re always close to my heart!

 

Roller Coaster

The noise was deafening. Music was blearing from practically everywhere, distorted and tinny; high-pitched screams followed every movement of the huge structures moving around them, multicolored lights blinking. And the smell... grease and garlic and slightly burnt burgers, mixed with artificial smoke and a sour whiff of vomit now and then.  
„You ....you come here ...for fun?“  
Cas stared at the moving, blinking, whirling world around him. He flinched when a woman stumbling through the trampled grass in front of them laughed hysterically, grabbing for her partner´s arm.  
Dean shrugged, grinned lopsidedly, following the woman with his eyes.  
„There´s beer, there´s booze, there´s plenty of girls needing a strong arm to help them regain their balance. And the fun fair? It´s awesome! What´s there not to love!“  
He slapped Cas´ back, eyes sparkling.  
„Come on, you´ll totally love it. Let´s get some grub and a few beers, and then I´ll show you the best attractions. The Spinning Wheel is crazy...and we have to try the Flying Carpet. Should have seen Sammy the first time we took a ride.“ Dean was lost in memories for a few seconds, pleasant ones, if the fond smile was any indication.  
„O...K...“ Cas glanced at his friend, still doubtful whether it had been a good idea to meet at the Annual Fair in Centerville, Michigan, rather than choosing some quiet bar. Or just spending the evening in the motel room, grimy as it might be, watching TV and having a beer or two accompanied by pizza or Chinese take out, just like Cas knew the Winchesters were used to. It would have been enough for him. More than enough, because...well, Dean would be there, and no matter how depressing the room, how greasy the food, or how bad the movie – as long as he shared his time with Dean, he didn´t care. But Dean had come back from his beer run, waving a crumpled leaflet, excitement clearly showing on his face....  
...and that was how Cas found himself in the middle of what he could only refer to as some kind of pre-hell (not Purgatory, he knew THAT one, didn´t he, although in Cas´ opinion, it was less scary than THIS), a practically bouncing Dean at his side – or, rather, in front of him – wondering about mankind´s idea of fun.  
He pondered grabbing the rim of Dean´s jacket, given the stumbling, jostling, swaying masses surrounding them, and finally gave in to the slight panic bubbling inside his stomach, and took one of the clasps adorning the moss-green garment between his shaking fingers. It was ridiculous, no, embarrassing, he was an Angel of the Lord, after all, but – well, this wasn´t his world, and situations like this tended to remind him of it painfully.  
Touching Dean - Ok, not Dean, but at least something that had direct contact with Dean – was reassuring. The knot inside his stomach unclenched a little. Still, he felt like a fish out of the water.  
He humored Dean and took the beer bottle the other man reached him, and also the shot they took at one of the rickety stands – even the second one, when he noticed it helped calm down his stomach further. Dean was flirting shamelessly with the voluptuous girl behind the wooden counter, and Cas pretended to ignore it, although something seemed to have wrapped around his lung and chest, and his heart felt like being pierced by sharp pointy things. He watched Dean´s face, and his body language, sipping his ..whatever this was, all alcohol tasted the same to him. When he saw Dean put on the special smile, the one Cas recognized as a sign of real interest, he put his drink away in one swig, and slammed the glass on the counter way too forcefully. Dean jerked, and stared at Cas with raised eyebrows. The waitress shot him a pretty murderous glance, straightening her blouse. Cas wondered if she´d washed it too hot, like he´d done with Dean´s and Sam´s clothes once, trying to help them and to pass away the boring hours of night (and because Dean had explicitly forbidden he watch him in his sleep). At the laundry, no one had been there to help Cas, so he had chosen the longest and hottest program the machine offered, thinking of germs and weapon oil and the traces of the Impala´s grease on Dean´s trousers – not to mention the blood on both the Winchesters´ shirts - proud of himself because he´d actually thought of bringing coins.  
He sat in front of the washing machine for over an hour, following the somewhat calming, hypnotizing movement of the drum, wondering if the water and foam inside were meant to show that weird pink color.  
In the end, when the machine stopped with a satisfying „Pling!“, he pulled out a strange assortment of shrunk, crumpled clothes, all the same dirty pink color; at a loss how the machine had been able to turn full grown mens´ clothing into little girls´ ones within 80 minutes. Well, one of the many mysteries of human life.  
He´d dried the underwear, shirts and jeans nevertheless, and brought home a neatly folded stack of tiny reddish stuff, hoping the brothers would know how to turn it back into the original size, shape and color. Well – as it turned out, they didn´t. When Dean saw the sad remains of his favorite red and blue plaid shirt in the morning, held up by a stunned Sam, he laughed so hard Cas started to fear for his friend´s life, or sanity; of course, it made Sam giggle, too, and in the end, both brothers were rolling on the bed, holding their stomachs, gasping for air, the derised clothes strewn all over the room. Cas had stood at the side, smiling at their gayety, not quite understanding the joyful nature of his mistake, but happy to see them enjoy a carefree moment for once. Dean´s deep laugh, the way he bent his head way back, whole body shaking...  
„Cas?“  
Cas blinked. Dean was waving a hand in front of his face. „You OK, man?“ Cas watched him turn to the waitress, asking her for a glass of water. He pressed the pleasantly cold glass into Cas´ hand, a worried frown on his face. „Cas...are you alright? You were kind of gone...“  
„I´m fine, thank you, Dean.“ He gulped the water down, relishing the cool liquid on his tongue.  
„Come on, let´s go“, Dean said, slapping a few banknotes on the counter, not even glancing at the pretty girl anymore. It filled Cas with an unknown satisfaction, especially when he noticed her casting Dean´s back an annoyed glance, lips pouting. Dean had put his arm around Cas´ shoulders, and pulled him away, his mood back to the previous merriment.  
„Where are we going?“, Cas asked, as Dean seemed to weave through the crowd with a certain purpose in mind.  
„Almost there“, the other man grinned, gripping Cas at his upper arm, pulling him along, shouldering people out of the way. When he suddenly stopped, Cas ran into him, not prepared for the change.  
„Wha -“  
„Look!“ Dean pointed at a huge structure in front of them, a confusing mess of crisscrossing metal poles , curving ...rail tracks? Artificial mountains and valleys of iron...  
Cas frowned. „Dean, what – what is this?“  
Dean slapped him on the back in a good humored way. „This, my friend, is pure fun. Come on, let´s get a ticket. Next one starts in a few minutes.“  
„Next...what?“, Cas stammered, feeling himself pulled forward again, this time in front of a tiny stand, brightly colored and lit by light chains, bulbs blinking red and green and blue. Dean already turned, waving two paper tickets at Cas. „Got´em!“  
Cas was lost. Seeing Dean´s excitement, he figured they´d enlisted in some sort of fun activity, although he couldn´t quite see where the strange structure in front of them came in; he was determined to give his best, though, and make this a good evening for Dean. God knew the man hadn´t had a lot of fun lately. Or..ever. Not since Cas had met him, at least ... it was more like – tiny sparks of lighter moments in a sea of darkness.  
People screamed. Cas jerked, and turned around, panicking, looking for the source of the distress....until he saw the train racing down the metal structure, people strapped inside the tiny cars, screaming and squealing on the top of their lungs...and laughing. They weren´t in pain, or terrorized...they were having fun, Cas realized. Fun. Racing down a hill at a crazy speed, at a horrifyingly steep angle, in kind of an open train ...  
Cas paled. Did Dean plan on...  
The train came to a halt, and laughing young people got out, faces flushed, hair tangled. A lanky boy wearing a cap with, again, blinking lights (Cas started to get a headache already) opened a metal gate, and Cas felt Dean´s hand in his, pulling him towards the train.  
Dean´s hand. In his.  
Warm, and big. Callouses rough on Cas´ softer skin.  
It kind of took his attention away from the world for a few moments, and when he surfaced in reality again, Dean was already climbing into the tiny ...car...at the front of the train.  
„Best place, Cas! Come on in!“  
His bright smile...skin crinkling at the corners of his eyes. Cas sighed.  
He folded himself into the seat, careful not to tear his coat – he was a little sentimental about it, ever since Dean had given it back to him after...well. He´d not think about THAT stupidity now, in this supposedly happy moment, worst in a long row of stupid things he´d done so far...  
Dean reached over. „Let me help you with that“, he said, smiling, and bent close to fasten the safety belt around Cas´ chest and waist. Cas took in the scent of Dean´s hair...a hint of apple, his styling gel probably...and his skin´s scent. Warm and dry...earthy.  
„You good?“  
Cas nodded, a little numb. „I´m...good.“  
„Hey, you´ll love it. You´re an angel, should be a piece of cake for you, what with flying and all!“  
Cas nodded hesitantly. I doubted his experience in flying as an angel would bring him any comfort here... using his wings had been like... focusing on something so hard it finally dissolved into ...nothingness, melting into him, or he melting into it...a quiet calmness... the pure energy that was his angelic self split into its very particles, to be sucked together again at the place where he´d planned to go.  
With a jerk, the train lurched into motion.  
„God, I haven´t rode one of these in ages“, Dean said at his side. „Not since Sammy got sick this one time when we....“ Dean´s voice faded away. Cas glanced at him. Dean was picking at a half torn sticker someone had put onto the handle.  
„Sam never really liked it“, he finally said, leaning back into the seat again. The train went up a very steep rise. Cas gripped the handle, squeezing his eyes shut. This was not good. Not good at all.  
„Relax“, a deep voice hummed into his right ear. He shivered, feeling Dean´s hand on his arm. „Cas, you – are you afraid of heights? A freaking ANGEL?“  
Cas opened his eyes again, to find Dean´s green ones on his face, incredulity in them.  
„Seriously?“ Dean looked amused, and a little worried.  
Cas bit his lower lip. „I – I think so. It – I have never been that high, and it – it seems my body doesn´t like it very much. I - “  
Talking, they´d missed the point where the train had reached the top. Now – now it was slowly pulling over the peak...their car already mowing downwards, slowed down by the rest of the cars behind them.  
„Dean...?“, Cas was able to say – well, more like squeak – staring down the incredibly high precipice; he felt Dean´s hand grab his reassuringly –  
and then it was Hell.

„I´m sorry, Cas. I didn´t – I really thought you´d like it.“  
Cas was bent over the wooden railing built haphazardly around the Fair´s area, panting, legs still shaky. He felt hot and cold at the same time, well, increasingly cold, as the sweat was drying on his face and back, and the air was getting pretty cool now that the sun was down. So, feeling Dean step even closer, actually holding his shoulders, and rubbing his back, was a relief. He felt the tension in his upper body relax a little.  
„Don´t blame yourself, Dean. I didn´t know either.“ Cas could tell his voice sounded a little rough, and even more gravelly than usual. Well, after his body had – for the first time – done something Dean, with a knowing nod, called „embrace the white porcelain“ – although, as there was no porcelain to be seen anywhere, less so any WHITE one, Cas didn´t understand why -it seemed logical; Cas had tasted unpleasantly sour and acid liquid at the back of his throat. Before the retching and spitting started, that is. It must have burnt his vocal cords somehow.  
He straightened up, giving in just a little to the urge ... and leaning back against Dean for a moment. He felt the other man´s strong arms wrap around him for an instant, then strong hands gripped his upper arms, stabilizing him.  
„Are you feeling better? I´ll bring you back to the car. Unless you want to....?“  
„No“, Cas hastily spat out. „No flying anymore today.“  
„I meant, get a drink or something“, Dean smiled. „It helps, you know.“  
Cas shook his head. Dean shrugged, put his arm around Cas´ shoulders again, and they wandered through the thinning crowd towards the exit. Cas felt much better, his stomach, having done the weirdest kinds of movement before, seemed to have calmed down; and having Dean that near, the reassuring warmth and scent so close – Cas had to admit he felt actually good. Something warm and fuzzy filled him, pushing away the sour remains of the earlier experience. He leant against the broad shoulder while walking. Dean obviously took it for a sign of dizziness, and stopped, gripping Cas even tighter.  
„Hey, you good? Want to rest a little? Come on, I´ll get you some more water.You´re white as a sheet.“  
Cas nodded weakly, he wasn´t really dizzy or anything, and if so, it wasn´t from nausea. He let himself be steered towards one of the stands nevertheless, where a motherly looking matron gave out beer to a group of older men, all of them wearing cowboy hats. Cas wondered why they´d wear such garment, given as there were no cows or horses to bee seen anywhere near, and they weren´t in one of the movies Dean liked to watch, with hard faced lonely men squinting into a sunburnt desert, hunting down human evil in their own way, not less violent than the Winchesters´ hunt for the supernatural versions. He opened his mouth to ask Dean, when the matron suddenly appeared in front of him, a friendly smile on her face.  
„Water?“, she asked, sounding sympathetic.  
„Yes, please“, Dean answered for him. Cas noticed his arm was still wrapped around him. He took the chance to lean into the touch some more.  
„Here you go, sweetie“, the waitress said, smiling at them fondly. „Roller coaster or food?“  
Dean huffed. „The Roller Coaster. Went unexpectedly hard on him.“  
She laughed. „Well, we never know ourselves fully before experiencing all the ups and downs, do we“, she said, putting another glass in front of Cas.  
„Drink that, sweetie, it´ll make you feel better. Anything for you, sweetheart?“  
Dean took a shot of Whisky. Cas smelled the familiar scent, part of Dean just like weapon oil and this particular smell his old car gave off – it seemed to have seeped into Dean´s skin over the years.  
„Anything for your stomach, too?“  
Cas hesitated for a moment. When he opened his mouth to decline, Dean was already answering for him.  
„He´ll take a Jaeger. And another Jim for me, please.“  
They had the tiny glasses put in front of them, accompanied by an encouraging smile from the waitress in Cas´ case, and a motherly stern „...and that´ll be the last one for you, young man, if you intend to drive back home in your own car“ for Dean.  
He saw Dean´s lips curl, and the wink he gave the older woman; this time, he didn´t feel anything like before though, when Dean had flirted with the busty blonde.  
„Yes, Mum“, he heard him say, and chuckle when the waitress answered.  
„Oh, sweetheart, you´ve got no idea. That wasn´t by far my mom voice!“  
Cas sniffed the liquid inside his glass, and decided to down it just like Dean used to, one gulp only; he was surprised to taste sweetness, and something ... spicy ...on his tongue.  
He licked his lips.  
„You like it? Figured you preferred the sweet stuff, the way you take your coffee....“  
Cas smiled back at Dean.  
„I do“, he answered. It was still new territory to him, all that food and its tastes and the annoying need to drink (and pee), tiredness ...  
Dean squeazed his shoulder.  
„Are we good to go? Your stomach OK?“  
„I´m ...peachy?“, Cas tried, remembering having Dean heard use that expression.  
Dean stared at him for a second, then he laughed, bellowing and bending his head back, and Cas was pleased, so pleased, to have made his friend laugh that way, staring at the line of his neck, and there was this feeling again, warmth spreading inside him within an instant, filling his whole body head to toe.  
Dean wiped his eyes.  
„I love you, man“, he said, patting Cas´ shoulder. „Come on, let´s go home. I bet there´s some classic on tonight, or even Downton Abbey. You know, the one you liked, with all those fancy Brits walking and talking with a stick up their ass?“  
Cas frowned. „I didn´t notice they had any - “, but Dean just laughed again, grabbed his shoulder, and waved at the waitress.  
„Of course you didn´t“, Dean chuckled, and they weaved around the cowboys, who, Cas noticed, threw them weird glances. He looked down his front.  
„Have I spoiled my clothes...earlier?“, he asked, thinking of what had been the outcome of climbing up/racing down seven hills in an open train.  
Dean glanced at him for a moment, and stopped. „I don´t think so...wait a sec.“  
He stood in front of Cas, straightening the collar of his trench coat, and the blue tie Cas still hadn´t figured out how to tie correctly. „You´re perfect“, Dean said. His voice had gone deeper, something in it sounded different... Cas couldn´t tell what, but the fuzzy feelings suddenly turned into...something hotter, almost burning, but in the most pleasurable way.  
„Just....“ Dean reached out, and wiped a strand of hair off Cas´ still sweaty front. The touch was impossibly soft. And slow. „There you go ...“

They stood there, facing each other, and when Dean raised his hand again, touching Cas´ brow, following it with his fingertips ... Cas closed his eyes. He wasn´t sure the low sigh he heard had come from his own mouth, or Dean´s – and he didn´t care, because there were those warm fingers wandering over his face, ever so softly, just ghosting over his cheekbones... down to his chin ....he was absolutely sure the second sigh was his own, though, the moment when Dean cupped his face with both his big, warm hands, and had his rough thumbs wipe over Cas´ lips, so unbelievably gently it made Cas´ eyes burn for some reason .... this tough man, buried in a hardened shell for so long now, angry all the time, angry and scarily deadly, full of a violent self-hate that made Cas cringe sometimes .. this man had still kept alive this other person inside him, through all the years of loss and failure and betrayal that kept cutting away at it, piece by piece... something, someone soft and gentle and caring, and loving those few he had left with such a fierce determination it was...heartbreaking.  
He opened his eyes, looking into the ones in front of him in the near darkness at the back of some stand, blinking lights illuminating them in a colored rhythm ... red ... green ... blue...red.... green ... and he could see it nevertheless, behind the softness and something else he couldn´t quite interpret, the insecurity ... nagging at Dean´s mind in the back, doubting and questioning...  
Cas reached out, and finally did what he´d wanted to do all day, from the moment Dean had fetched him at the bus station, and Cas had felt this tiny fluttering movement inside his stomach at seeing him leaning against the Impala, not as relaxed as he used to ... years ago...the tension never seemed to leave him, now, not his shoulders nor his face, but he had smiled, genuinely, and had raised a hand in greeting ...  
He mirrored Dean´s gesture, taking his face in his hands, cupping the cheeks, the scruff scratching at his palms softly. He leaned foward, seeing the surprise in Dean´s eyes, taking his chance before – before the nagging voice could win, and Dean would pull back.  
So soft.  
The lips ... they were so soft ... just like he´d ...imagined ...softer even than Meg´s , who were the only ones he had touched so far .. fuller, and ...plush, and ...  
He tasted the Whisky on them, mixed with the rest of sweetness from his own drink, and let his lips linger there just a moment longer, Dean not resisting, but not really kissing back either, obviously stunned; but when Cas pulled back, watching his friend´s face carefully, he saw the smile in his eyes, the wonder. And Dean´s hands were still on Cas´ face, holding him, keeping him close, and finally, he leaned forward, until their fronts touched, and they stood like that for a few seconds in the darkness, noise and smells and blinking lights forgotten, because they were the only people in their own universe, smelling and tasting and seeing ... feeling just each other, and it was enough. It was ... everything.  
Cas couldn´t help smiling, smiling so widely it hurt in a pleasant way, the smile seemed to fill his whole body, every fiber, every cell, and yes, it was like using his angel wings, melting and dissolving, only ... so much better.  
„Let´s go home“, Dean whispered eventually.  
„Yes ... let´s go home.“


End file.
